Stepping In
Craver road. Walk sign is on. Craver road. Walk sign is on.
I’m 100% sure those words are ingrained in the head of every student who has attended UNC-Charlotte in the past decade. Craver road is the busiest road on Charlotte’s campus as far as pedestrian traffic goes. It runs in between the student union and the well-landscaped walk way headed towards the SAC. A memory I think of from time when I’m reminded of Craver road dates back to the fall semester of 2012, which was my sophomore year. I was walking out the student union headed towards Prospector not only to grab a bite to eat from Chick-Fil-A, but also to say what’s up to Ms. Barbara (a kind lady who once told me that nobody has to tell me I’m wonderful for me to be wonderful) as I hadn’t seen her in a while. As I stepped out headed towards Craver road, I notice an older white man in a wheel chair crossing the road. I looked at the digital timer located on the other side of the street and it was counting down at 2 seconds. He was only halfway when I looked back at him and he seemed to be struggling. I wasn’t afraid he would get hit by a car because the drivers can clearly see he’s trying his best to get across the road, and plus, who is that much of an asshole to lose their patience in situations like these? I know, I’d be surprised, but still, I noticed this and instead of hastening up my pace to help him cross the road, the exact opposite happened; I slowed down. It was a delay in my action, and by the time I made up in my mind that I was going to rush and help him cross the street, another gentleman in a collared shirt ran up and pushed the man in his wheelchair across the road. Once to the other side, I noticed them smiling and laughing, engaging in genuine interaction between the cars passing from the my side of Craver road.
This past Saturday night, I got caught up in conversation with Alexis about one of her classmates who is blind. She says her eyes are stitched shut, and that she somehow Ubers to campus. Although her eyes are stitched shut, she doesn’t wear glasses or any eye-wear to cover her stitches. I thought about how strange and out of the ordinary that was, but doing a little bit more thinking outside my comfort zone, it made sense. Why should she—Alexis’ classmate—wear glasses to cover her eyes? The most logical answer from a societal perspective of those who aren’t blind would be because it looks 'scary', 'gross', etc. I get it, but what I don’t get is why do we perceive that as gross and scary? Why is it that we as humans think it’s adorable for a dog to have his or her eye’s sewn shut, but when it comes down to a human, one of our own, we have a negative perception of something they most times have no control over? Alexis continues to tell me about her observation of her classmate’s experience, which includes frustration of peers and even a professor, and how they lose their patience dealing with her. I asked her if she thought she was happy, in which she responded that her classmate is always smiling whenever she sees her, so she thinks she is. I urged Alexis to introduce herself and help her the next time she saw her on campus before we began watching the Mayweather vs. McGregor fight.
During the fight, my mind was half in and out thinking of the conversation we had before. It made me feel a few ways.
Sad.
Appreciative.
Happy.
Guilty.
Sad because life is beautiful and she cannot experience a fifth of what the average human can. She will never be able to see the leaves turn color and fall, or the face of a loved one, or even New York City in the winter. I felt appreciative, as bad as it sounds, that I still have my vision and can see whatever it is life has to offer my eyes. I remember during Alexis’ and I conversation, I kept looking around my room trying to take in as many details as I could. I noticed the dust on my computer screen, the white hairs growing in on Bagel’s face, the solid colored strand of carpet in my carpet in which I had seen a million times before but thought they were all multi-colored. I began paying more attention to things I felt I had already paid enough attention to and started to realize that maybe I don’t pay enough attention to these things to begin with, which would infer that I’m taking my eyesight for granted. I felt happy because Alexis’ classmate seemed happy, at least a little from what I can tell by hearing she walks around aimlessly smiling. I felt guilty because I felt thankful. I didn’t feel thankful for someone else’s misfortune, but thankful for my blessings. It's true when the OG’s tell you that you have more than you think you have and that someone else always has it worse. I felt guilty for that, but also for not helping any of my fellow classmates with similar issues during my time at UNCC as well.
How could I, someone who had never helped a fellow disabled classmate, urge someone to do something I never had the courage to do? Hypocritical to the fullest extent to say the least. Similar to Alexis, I used to see a blind classmate around campus routinely. She was an older black lady, who I assumed was blind by the way her eyes lacked color. She would walk around campus with a red and silver stick with a white ball attached to the end. Most times she would be smiling, talking to a student assisting her, but by chance, in an uncommon setting, I would see her by herself. Sometimes she’d be standing alone, other times she seemed to be waiting. Then I began thinking of why I didn’t walk up, introduce myself, and ask her what she needed. Was I that ignorant to ignore how bad other’s had it because I was taking the simplest of things for granted? I tried to distract myself by attentively watching the fight, but my mind kept racing back to all the things I could’ve done, all the things I didn’t do.
Trust me when I say the guilt and regret afterwards isn’t worth how uncomfortable the anxiety and nerves are in moments of good intention. We are all human and we shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Being human comes with similarities and differences, and we should embrace that. We should strive to accept appreciation with consideration. Any time we can assist without major inconveniences on our end, we should try. Why try? Because life can be a better experience when shared than when alone.
This, I’m still learning.